I'm Still Here
by mohla.mohla
Summary: 9-year-old Ashley Williams has to overcome the shadow of her grandfather's legacy. Being bullied for her heritage by the other children doesn't help. An exploration into symbolic writing for me, and an attempt at an explanation for Ash's personality.


**So. Long time no see...Yeah...**

**I know there is no excuse for my disappearing, BUT I have some food for thought for you in the form of this story here. Hopefully. **

**Anyway, hope you like this story. And my thanks goes to sinvraal, whose help as a beta pointed out to me a few _glaring_ mistakes and, overall, provided me with very good suggestions.  
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><p><em>I've been scarred and battered<em>

_My hopes the wind done scattered._

_Snow has frizzed me_

_Sun has baked me_

_Looks like between 'em they've done _

_Tried to make me_

_Stop laughin', stop lovin', stop laughin'._

_But I don't care!_

_I'm still here!_

—"Still Here"

By Langston Hughes

9-year-old Ashley Williams fidgeted awkwardly in front of the class, acutely aware of the 20-odd eyes staring at her, examining her. She clutched her books to her chest like they were a lifeline, staring hard at the floor.

Mrs. Forbes, the teacher, beamed at her, obviously intended to encourage her new charge.

Ashley was not encouraged. In any way.

"All right class," Mrs. Forbes announced. "We have a new student here. Just moved in from…?" She looked at Ashley.

"Monmouth County," Ashley mumbled.

"Monmouth County. Now, we need Ashley to feel at home here, so can we say hello?"

"Hello, Ashley," the class intoned.

"Class, I want you to go around the classroom, saying your names and one interesting thing about you."

As the students in her new class recited their names, Ashley absentmindedly took note as the students in her new class recited their names. She was preoccupied with whether or not her classmates would like her, whether or not she would fit in. The highest thing in her mind, however, was if her new classmates would ask the Question.

In previous schools, the Question had automatically removed any chance that she would be accepted; she was snubbed, excluded, and made to sit alone in the lunch room. It was bearable, though. It wasn't too bad. But still, she wished she didn't have it looming over her head, a 500-kilo weight hanging over her, waiting to drop.

The class finished, and the teacher turned toward her and asked, "Ashley, can you tell us an interesting fact about you?" She smiled.

"Uh. . ." she said. _Yeah,__ Ashley, __smart.__ Look__ stupid __in __front__ of__ the __whole__ class._ "I have a family tradition in the military," she said, grabbing the first vaguely interesting fact in her mind.

The class tittered, with predictably the most amount of noise from the boys.

"Quiet down, kids," Mrs. Forbes said absently. "Now, do you have any questions or comments?"

One boy's hand shot up and he waved it energetically through the air.

"Yes, Robert?"

"Just saying," Robert declared, "Mrs. Forbes, that when I grow up, I'm going to be a soldier and shoot up some turians."

"Well, Robert," Mrs. Forbes chided him, "turians, along with the rest of the Citadel races, are our friends now. We have to be nice to them," Ashley could see in her eyes that she didn't believe that at all. The teacher turned her attention back to the class. "Any more?" she asked. A couple of kids' hands shot up into the air.

"Rebecca?" The teacher indicated that the girl could speak.

Rebecca asked timidly, "Well, how is it like? Having a father in the military, I mean."

"Well, it's lonely," Ashley said, a flicker of sadness in her gut. "Dad can't come home much, because of his duties out on patrol. Still, it isn't _that_ lonely. I have a younger sister to worry about. . . ." Ashley trailed off and fidgeted.

Rebecca's eyes shone. "Really?" she gasped. "How-how is it like? Traveling in space?"

"I never tried," Ashley said. "I was born on Earth." God, all this attention was getting to her. She started shifting her weight self-consciously, swaying from side to side, picking at her nails. All she could hope for was that the Question wasn't asked. She would like some friends for once, and not be constantly rejected.

There were more questions—"Where are you from?"—"What's your birthday?"—"What sports do you like?" She offered her answers in as economical fashion as possible—"New Jersey, USA,"—"April 14, 2158,"—"Basketball and swimming."

And then, just as Mrs. Forbes said, "Alright, just one more question," the boy the teacher chose—Robert, the future Alliance soldier—asked the Question.

"Ashley Williams. Is that like . . . _General_ Williams?"

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><p><strong>So. Hoped you liked that. Review, and tell me what you think.<strong>


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